


Bittersweet (every love is bittersweet)

by bluescent (orphan_account)



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bluescent
Summary: Even if it’s broken Wonsik’s heart will always recall its way back home.
Relationships: Jung Taekwoon | Leo/Kim Wonshik | Ravi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Bittersweet (every love is bittersweet)

**Author's Note:**

> This whole idea came to life after an entire day spent listening to [XI by code kunst and lee hi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGDwcoGnI7M), and every song lyric comes from it too, title included because maybe I love it way too much. 
> 
> Special thanks to val, my bro, my friend and the real mvp for always sticking up, supporting and hyping all of my dumb decisions including this fic, ily♡
> 
> Hopefully this is readable and enjoyable and I’m sorry in advance for any grammatical mistakes you may find.

_Love is never like the movies I get it_

A wine-like sultry voice echoes through the entire room. “You’re completely right” Wonsik murmurs while he nurses his third, now empty, glass of whatever toxicity the bartender thought would make him feel not just mentally but physically miserable as well.

 _Oh boy,_ whatever was inside that glass, he had hit the jackpot. 

_Love is like a pack of cigarettes yeah it kills me, but fuck that I need you right now_

A bitter taste on his mouth, and even more bitter voice, “sure I do” is all that escapes his lips as he lets his body fall on top of the counter in front of him. It’s awfully sticky, Wonsik notices, but he is starting to feel dizzy and the humidity in the air is suffocating and he doesn’t want to fight back any of it. He lets the song lull him into something that resembles a relaxing state instead, but it’s not really that, he can’t surrender completely. He doesn’t care though, he knows his brain won’t stop working, not even after 3 glasses of strong alcohol, making up thoughts and crafting escenarios he doesn’t even want to think of, but it is inevitable _anyway_ , part of Wonsik’s electric nature, so, on an attempt to keep his mind out of that he focuses on the melody and plays with the words he hears instead.

_Bittersweet_

_Love_

_Hurt_

_Love_

**_Love_ **

They are simple words. Yet so complex in meaning. They can be everything or nothing, they can make a whole tree grow inside your body, fed with love and passion and promises that can end up being nothing but empty words, and that's when the roots will seem to strangle your extremities. Anything you thought was comfortable once makes you unable to breath now and you have to cut the tree down completely, make sure no root stays alive if you want to keep breathing, keep living. 

Those are simple words. Just like him. And they all apply to _them._ Wonsik wishes they didn’t, but it’s not something he can control so he laughs in between verses instead. Courtesy of the alcohol, and his current state, he can’t ask himself too much, he doesn’t do silence well either, never had done so. 

The wine-like voice suddenly is not enough and feels heavy over Wonsik’s shoulders, awakening thoughts that inhabit the darkest corners of his mind, nowadays he bets they aren’t solely corners though, they are just well hidden during the day and only roam free during hours like this, when a current that sedates his rational side has entered his system not so far ago and his guards are down.

Wonsik knows he is somehow drunk, he is well aware of the fact that he spends most of his nights like that nowadays. He doesn’t care, doesn’t want to, at least to an extent. 

Because during the day it is easier to fight back the loneliness, and the hole inside of him doesn’t seem too deep, too dark. But once the city lights contrast with the darkness of the night, as the moon is shining bright surrounded by almost invisible stars in Seoul’s polluted sky, Wonsik feels like drowning his sorrows in alcohol ( _once again)_ as he believes that’s the only thing that will keep the darkness from eating him alive. He has to, needs to hold on to something for dear life, _at least for now,_ that’s the excuse he tells himself every time he steps inside a bar.

As soon as the sun settles down and the content of the first glass is already running through his veins, Wonsik sets his mind and heart free, allows them to take out everything inside of him that is painful, every single bit that is sorrowful. He lets them surrender to all of those emotions that cut him open like a heavy sword. He fights back during the early hours of the day that usually feel too long and sometimes endless. 

But Wonsik can only keep those thoughts at bay for so long. 

In broad daylight he allows himself to believe that he has found a way to climb out of the hole, but each night it takes him an hour to realize the hole has eaten him alive already. 

He becomes transparent like the liquid he oftenly drowns.

Because he is alone now, he doesn’t feel ashamed of things, of feeling, not while the sun is still down. The moon doesn’t judge, the stars won’t tell anyone about his endless blurry eyed walks near the Han river, _there’s no one left now,_ Wonsik thinks, no one left to burden with his insecurities and heartsick thoughts. 

He’s close to falling asleep, too deep into the song, it's choruses sending him into dreamland and that sultry velvety voice that wraps him like a warm blanket. But as soon as the last note ends he wakes up, as if not being able to tolerate the bare silence, or well, a so called silence if you exclude the white noise of a night bar, Wonsik’s eyes snap open like out of trance, still drunk and painfully aware of the open wound on his chest, his heart that keeps weeping and he can’t find a way to make it stop. 

_Air._

He knows fresh air helps open wounds heal and that’s what he needs now, he has needed it for a long time but he keeps neglecting it almost every day. _Not today._

And so, Wonsik leaves the bar, as quickly as his hazed and still sleepy head can order his lower extremities to move. 

_One step at a time._

Left, now right, now left again. _Repetition,_ endless repetition under a dark, starless night.

Cold air hugs Wonsik like an unpredictable wave, but he welcomes it with a feeling of relief. It helps and it clears his mind a little bit. Despite his high tolerance his whole body is buzzing from the alcohol.

Hopefully he will forget most of the details of the night once he wakes up. _Not really tho._

He wishes the dark thoughts would go away just as easily, but they always come back, at this point they are just as part of him, like his droopy eyes or his tattoos or even his once well known deep laugh. 

Wonsik is sober enough to still recall his way back home by heart. A heart that is broken and he is walking down a path that is full of pieces of it, sharp edges that will make his fingers bleed if he is not careful, if he doesn’t treat them with enough care. But he never does, Wonsik’s hands are not tender and he doesn’t know how to put each piece on it's place to mend his heart properly. 

Still so, he walks, lets it guide him despite its state. No matter the heartbreak, the hole in his soul that creeps out every night, his heart reminds sure of it's destination, of the place it calls _home_ because it feels like one _._

The route is familiar, walking through the streets felt like tracing the path of each line on his palm, such an intimate gesture, like he is the only one who knows where the imaginary path will led him just like he knows where each line on his palm ends. 

Streets pass by like a blur but Wonsik is used to that. He has managed to make it back to his apartment each time, he knows his limits, he knows no one else does so and that he only has himself right now. _You can’t be careless like that, you can’t add another thing to the list that haunts you._

He enters the building and makes his way to the eighth floor, the cold air of the November night has woken him up a bit but his brain still feels muffled. 

Everything is still too bright. Too white. It’s once he gets to his floor that he wonders if things are right, _is this my building? it does feel familiar, tho._ He has a hard time debating whether the walls on the corridor have always been that bright or if someone has painted them recently. 

His hazy mind wanders around for a bit, enough for his legs to take him in front of a door, _his door, right?_ He is drunk still, _but_ _what does it matter?_

 _O_ ne second Wonsik is staring at it, contemplating the thought that he does remember his passcode but the door seems kind of strange, he doesn’t associate it with those numbers _0215,_ his birthday because he is naive like that. Yet his head is too slow to react and the next moment he sees his index finger ringing the bell that stands on the left side of the entrance. 

_Now what?_

Seconds pass, and he feels his mind dozing off, his eyes are heavy and...

All trace of haziness leaves his head as he hears a short _click_ and suddenly the door in front of him opens. 

Everything happens too fast and he half notices the astounded soft voice calling his name. _What?_

“What are you doing here?” The soft voice says this time, less surprised but also with a hint of sourness, Wonsik slightly percibes, not grasping the question as realization strikes him like a lightning bolt in the middle of a storm.

 _Oh,_ Wonsik only thinks, says out loud, he doesn’t know. He can’t articulate words right now because you see, Jung Taekwoon from all people is standing right in front of him and he can’t wonder the reason why.

His ex-boyfriend, Taekwoon, standing a meter away from him.

That door? That apartment? _Oh,_ this time he doesn’t say it out loud. It hits him straight that he’s in front of Taekwoon’s apartment and not his house. His heart led him there, to the place it stills considers it's home _. Talk about convenience._

Except that, Taekwoon is not looking at him very fondly right now, if anything the look the man in front of him is giving him could only be described as of pure bemusement. 

Wonsik keeps his head low but he can’t avoid the heavy weight of Taekwoon’s stare on him and he’s aware that the older man is looking at him like he has been put a puzzle in front of him and has been told to solve it in as little time as possible. _Lift your head, you owe him that much for probably waking him up._

And maybe it’s just the fact that Taekwoon seems tired, rightfully so, _it’s past two AM goddamnit,_ yet it’s not only the heavy eyes that come with such a late hour or the slouchy hand he raises on an attempt to get a string of hair out of his sight, rather so, Wonsik percibes something off in Taekwoon. 

Technically they haven’t seen each other in over six months _so why do you care?_ How can’t he? he will always care when it comes to the older man like it’s his second nature.

Those eyes that had always been so bright... they seem to have lost that peculiar light that brought Wonsik’s attention to him on the first place. 

What happened to them? Or is it Taekwoon himself? he doesn’t know. He’s lost in thoughts again, the reminding alcohol in his system tells him he had had enough for tonight, and exhaustion gets to him like a silent bullet, going as far as to keep him from hearing whatever Taekwoon tells him. And hell, he has been silent for a while which probably won't help either. _He just talked to you._

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

Taekwoon sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose out of annoyance then looks straight back to Wonsik and repeats what he said on the first place, softer this time “I asked you what were you doing here”.

 _Oh,_ maybe it’s the alcohol or just his nerves, but Wonsik is unable to articulate a whole sentence right now. “I am… I jus- my feet got me here, I don- I don’t know why” is all he can muster. _Perfect, he is totally gonna believe that._

Taekwoon’s stare pierces through every layer of his being. Wonsik holds it on an attempt to show him he is telling him the truth. The older man is silent for a while, judging, measuring the situation as fast as anyone would at past midnight. 

“I see” is all he says and for a second, Wonsik fears he will just shut the door as hard as possible to wake him up, but instead he feels a cold pressure on his right wrist, he looks down to find Taekwoon’s firm grip travelling up to his arm, and then he is dragging him inside of his apartment with just one hand, quietly closing the door with the other. 

The room is dark, and the only illumination comes from a handful of candles on top of a drawer and an open window on the opposite side, the city is still asleep but the lights remind watchful, Wonsik thinks. 

“Sit” Taekwoon tells him, his pale hand still holding Wonsik’s tanned arm in comparison, and they stay like that until he is sitting on a sofa a few meters away and in front of the window. “I’ll make some coffee". 

“I’m sorry for waking you up".

Taekwoon stays quiet for a long second, “don’t worry, you didn’t” he assures him, and slides inside the kitchen area, perpendicular to where he is sitting or so he remembers, all dark hues and expensive marble. Wonsik can picture him opening and closing cabinets and making little to no sound in the process. 

He stays silent, trying hard not to doze off in the comfort of Taekwoon’s dark sofa, which was his favourite one to fall asleep in, soft and plushy and that sink-in feeling it had given him every time he sat there. He would always make Taekwoon stay there for a bit longer just to enjoy the comfort of it if only for a couple of extra minutes, kissing him on the cheek, or running a hand through his soft dark hair. If he was extremely comfortable he would kiss Taekwoon on the lips passionately enough to make them forget about everything around them though. And _oh,_ it’s the thought of him kissing the other man what brings Wonsik back to reality. 

One where he isn’t kissing Taekwoon, or caressing him, and he can’t do so because _we are no longer together, I can’t call him my boyfriend anymore._ Wonsik hates to think that he is living in a present where Taekwoon isn’t a constant in his everyday, that he had lost the privilege to hold his hand whenever he pleases and call him his the same way Taekwoon would call him his too. 

So there he stays. In Taekwoon’s living room. Which reeks of familiarity and sentiments, making Wonsik’s heart ache with more intensity than it normally does, because he is no longer part of it's owners life and that thought alone makes him go completely numb.

Taekwoon, his ex boyfriend, has opened his door at such an ungodly hour after a half assed answer on why he was there, and is now making him coffee without a second guess while Wonsik, a bit drunk and on the verge of crying feels his insides twisting at each glance he gives at the apartment. He tries to relax and on an attempt to escape this reality he so much despises sends his mind back to _those_ days, peaceful and sunny, far better days.

They met at a park he had used to frequent a lot since he was a child on a day where there had been a music festival for local artists. 

Taekwoon happened to be a brilliant piano player, a composer who was quietly arising and gaining fans steadily here and there. So _of course,_ he would sign up for an event like that, exposure was always well received and the chance of showing his art in front of a bigger crowd was invaluable. 

Wonsik was there, _of course,_ the second he saw the stage they arranged for the musicians to play in he was sold and spent the entire day fixed on his trustful spot close to it, listening to the new wave of artists of different genres with an open mind and ears. He was having a great time, most of the musicians were good and the groovy atmosphere was very enjoyable. 

The sudden appearance of a thin black haired man on stage didn’t go unnoticed for Wonsik, and neither did the melodies he played in the polished deep black piano set in front of him. To be fair, he reckons now, it’s pretty possible that he had felt attracted to Taekwoon since that very first moment he saw him. 

The exact second he began playing, Wonsik was sure his heart skipped a beat. 

It was a soft tune, gentle, and thanks to his spot close to the stage he had a great sight of the pianist who was doing a perfect job at delighting the audience with his art.

He was not ready for the voice that accompanied the second half of the playing though, the lightest and most feathery sound he had ever heard. It flowed and blended so well with the piano that it made everyone around him go silent, eyes fixed on the artist on the stage, whose sad lyrics, _he just noticed,_ were easily getting to everyone, Wonsik included. They spoke of a heartbreak and unrequited love and mornings that now felt more like rainy days. Some even started crying. 

Wonsik was moved, his heart felt tight on his chest but he couldn’t stop looking at the man above whose playing was getting more intense each passing second, the song reaching its climax, the lightests notes on the piano taking control of the situation until the weight of the song switched back to the man’s voice that began ascending, getting higher and higher and…

A few tears were running down Wonsik’s face by the time the song ended. He was trying to grasp and understand what he had seen and heard for the last four minutes or so.

 _He did put on a performance just like that_ he thought, his vision was still a bit blurry and his chest felt compressed, keeping his emotions from flowing all over the place. 

The performance had felt like a cry for help. It had been painful yet so moving and Wonsik felt pity for the troubled soul that seemed to be griefing. How come, that someone so beautiful was bearing so much pain? 

Something began growing inside him.

 _Leo_ that had been the name he had been presented as. 

_Leo, Leo, Leo,_ he kept repeating it on his head to make sure he would remember it, not that the opposite seemed possible. 

Wonsik wanted to see him, to hold those delicate hands and hear whatever the other man had to say that was troubling his heart. But even if he had clearly been left awestruck by the artist’s work, it had been more than just that what made him feel that way.

He had looked breathtaking, long legs that could go on forever contained on a pair of neat black jeans and a pristine white shirt. Long arms decorated with strings of silver and slender, professionally trained fingers.

But the real beauty lied in Leo’s eyes. Something Wonsik discovered only after leaving the festival, too shocked by the pianist’s performance to stay there for longer but he didn’t feel like heading home just then, and so decided to stop by for a drink at a bar close by the park. 

He found the man who had had every bit of his attention less than half an hour ago, sitting by himself in the east corner of the room. He had frozen for a good minute before some unknown force had casted itself upon him, and gave him an amount of confidence he never thought he had. 

One second he had been looking at the pianist from afar and the next he was telling him his name. And so it began.

His name was Taekwoon. He was a songwriter, trying to make it big in Seoul. Luckily he had recently been given the chance to write for some major music companies but what he truly adored was to play the piano and sing for himself. That’s why he had been there at the festival, to prove he could make it and to share his art with others. 

And Wonsik had listened to him with even more attention than during his song. Unable to look anywhere else but into Taekwoon’s eyes, that were gleaming like two pearls under the dim light of the bar. A pair of eyes as deep an obscure as the instrument he had played, glossy even. Taekwoon’s intense stare was an invitation to open up and so he did. 

It took Wonsik no more than five minutes to notice how more comfortable the older man seemed to be as he listened to him talk rather than when he was the one speaking. He decided Taekwoon was a listener and that didn’t matter, really. If anything he would just try harder to get to know him, it had felt exciting. 

After that first date, Wonsik had liked to call it one later on their relationship, it was obvious their paths would cross again. They simply clicked _that well_ together, and waking up with Taekwoon’s number saved on his phone did nothing but convince Wonsik further of it. 

They met again shortly after that night. They shared more, got to know each other better, their minds and bodies, and it simply happened. _They_ happened. Wonsik was pure bliss the day he confessed to love him and Taekwoon had said yes when he had properly asked him to be his boyfriend. 

_You have a heart made of gold, you know?_ Taekwoon told him once in the intimacy of the night where the moon and many bright stars had been their only spectators and confidants. His words had been soft and kind, like always, and Wonsik had felt the urge to cry right on the bed they shared on his apartment, happy tears had ran down his cheeks and Taekwoon kissed each one of them, reassuring him, not for the first time, that there was nothing he didn’t deserve, that he would give him anything he could and Wonsik had believed him, he was hopelessly in love with Taekwoon after all.

If anything, it had been obvious, since that first night at the bar, that he would fall hard for him, he felt like he had finally found someone to open his heart fully and sincerely to. He still likes to think that Taekwoon also did, although, he has to remember, only up to some extent. 

Because the first time Wonsik had asked him about his songs, Taekwoon told him about his ex, just a brief mention, but it was a topic that had lingered in the air through their entire relationship. He felt like he knew him too. Hakyeon, he had been Taekwoon’s boyfriend throughout college until one day he had decided he was too busy for a relationship like that. It had crushed Taekwoon, that much was obvious from the lyrics of his songs alone but hearing it from the man himself had been even worse, making Wonsik promise him, that none of that would happen together, that he would never let him go like that. 

How could he? Taekwoon had felt like an addiction. Everything about him had, his touches that were delicate _,_ and his soft, _so soft,_ and silky voice, always speaking pretty words in Wonsik’s ears.

Taekwoon’s laugh, so light and sincere that it came to be his favourite melody, the purest form of music there was.

The feeling of his lips colliding with Taekwoon's, his passionate kisses, _oh his kisses,_ Wonsik misses them the most. _Everything_ about Taekwoon was addictive, and like any other addiction once you cut it down completely you find yourself needing it, wanting it more than ever even though you know you can’t have it. 

Wonsik feels numb and empty without Taekwoon, without that clever smile and thin tender fingers and that presence that had turned his world upside down. Showed him the world on a different set of colours, more detailed, making him feel more, wanting to see more. 

He needs Taekwoon so much it still pains him. Him leaving Wonsik broke his heart and everyday he fears there is no repair for it. Taekwoon took, and took and took and all he has left is a hole in his chest, previously filled with bittersweet half promises, wide smiles and caressing fingers that had hold his face with a feathery, careful touch. 

It hadn’t been perfect but it had been more than enough for Wonsik, a perfect illusion of a lifetime of love, all gone now. 

He spaces out for who knows how long before Taekwoon enters the room again, holding two cups of steaming coffee that he places in the small table in front of him and then sits on a chair in the far right corner of the room, putting an obvious amount of distance between them. 

Wonsik feels cold, even as he grabs the cup of coffee and gives it a small sip, it tastes very strong at first, _Taekwoon’s personal favourite,_ yet the two spoons of sugar are enough for him to enjoy it. He wouldn’t say he is surprised that Taekwoon remembers, after all they had spent an unhealthy amount of time drinking coffee together and each time he had made a light comment on how had it been possible for Wonsik to taste anything in between all that much sugar, making both of them laugh in the end. 

They stay quiet for some time, white noise coming from outside, the beating heart of a city that never sleeps. 

“Thank you” he says on an attempt to break the icy silence imposed upon them.

“For what?”

“Not asking too much” _Like ever, you always understood my personal space and all you asked in return was to be treated the same way._ “And letting me in” he quickly adds. 

A small chuckle is all Wonsik gets as a response, the older man is too busy looking at his cup. “Where is he anyway?” Taekwoon’s head goes up a bit too quick. 

Wonsik faces an arched eyebrow the moment their eyes meet. “Tokyo, business trip” Taekwoon’s tone is composed, words calculated, yet different to the one he had used at the front door. 

“Thought he would have learnt something by now”

“He is trying to be here, really, it’s just…” _work was always complicated,_ Wonsik remembers Taekwoon’s mocking, he had laughed hard every time. _If only I had known._

“Work is complicated?” he tries.

“Don’t use my own words against me” Taekwoon replies, softer this time, and it warms Wonsik’s insides better than any cup of coffee ever would. He glances at him, sitting on that chair with his knees close to his chest and an expression plastered on his face that reminds Wonsik of a kid who had just been caught stealing cookies from a jar.

 _Why does this have to feel so good?_ being next to Taekwoon even with this so called ‘distance’ in between them has already made him feel more at peace than how he had felt in the last six months. 

Wonsik is hesitant, there are too many words he wants to say, and it’s not like his head is less of a mess now. “I’ve missed you a lot, you know?” it’s what he finally murmurs.

The words linger in the air for a bit and the only audible sound is Taekwoon shifting on his seat.

Wonsik looks at him, his face perfectly composed that it’s impossible to decipher what is crossing the older’s mind now.

“I would have certainly imagined that” he says, “would explain a bit better why you ended up here too” Taekwoon attempts to joke but it comes out so toneless that fails to trick Wonsik. 

He wants to ask him if he had missed him too so desperately, but with every passing second it seems more obvious what the answer would probably be. 

“Still… I do miss you too sometimes” Taekwoon adds, softer this time. 

_What? did he just-_ “You miss me?” Wonsik tries to reprime his surprise but his voice comes out too loud and his eyes grow wide without him realizing. 

“Every now and then. Like… I think of you as this memory that feels dear to me and I like to remember, just not very often because I fear it will stop seeming so special. I do treasure our time together if that’s what you are wondering”

_Special, me? But he left me and he just-_

“You’re saying you’ve missed me even after breaking up with me just to get back with _him_?” Wonsik can’t help those words from escaping, the surprise of Taekwoon’s statement is something he still can’t digest and he simply can’t form coherent sentences now. 

“I know what I did” he looks back at him, but Taekwoon’s eyes are fixed on his hands, fingers playing with the silver bands adorning almost all of them, and stays quiet for a bit longer before continuing, “I was selfish for making you think I could give you something impossible, and really, I shouldn’t have done that. But it happened right? Us together I mean, it wasn’t bad, actually, it was more than good while it lasted. Answer me now Wonsik, would you have preferred if I had gone back with him while we were still together? I was honest with you about it since the beginning, that I still felt something for Hakyeon".

And that was true, Wonsik knows it. Because even if Taekwoon had been selfish the way he had, he had also been clear with him about his ex. He had told him beforehand that he carried a recent heartbreak and that he still hadn’t heal, but Wonsik hadn’t care about that, already invested in Taekwoon, wrapped in those sharp feline-like eyes and soft lips. _We could try_ is all he remembers saying, repeating. He had made blind eyes to everything related to other’s past and in retrospect, it had been childlish of him. He thought that the right words and the right acts could make Taekwoon fall for him truly. In the end his heart and mind had been too ambitious. 

Wonsik let himself fall and fall and fall deeper into Taekwoon's love that resembled a spider’s web. Beautiful, delicate and perfectly crafted. But the truth is, it had always been a bit shallow, even though he had chosen to ignore it, Taekwoon’s love didn’t feel completely sincere but Wonsik had decided not to see it. Everything else had been too good to think where the ending line lied. _It had been enough, it had felt real for me at least_. 

He had been foolish enough to wonder far beyond the reality of where their relationship lied in. He really had thought they were endless, that his so called heart made of gold was enough to make Taekwoon forget about Hakyeon and that both of them could start something better. It had been that smile and the desire of being together that had made him think so. 

And the worst part of it is: he doesn’t regret falling blindly in love for him, and he wouldn’t change anything about what they had together. 

So _no,_ Wonsik wouldn’t have wanted Taekwoon to be any different than how he had been. In the end, both had been at fault and it would be stupid to analyze who got it worse. 

“No, I loved that you were always honest about everything, but it’s true tho, that I didn’t want to see you were still in love with Hakyeon” he looks down at his hands that are holding a now empty cup of coffee, _nothing lasts forever_ and whoever thought otherwise was clearly hopeless. “I think we were both a bit stupid actually” he blurts out. 

He earns a grin from Taekwoon that fades as he looks straight into his eyes, _but maybe we were idiots made for each other_ Wonsik doesn’t say. 

“You were incredible” he starts, “you made me feel special, amazing. I liked that you were different to Hakyeon in every aspect, sort of felt like I understood you perfectly even after knowing you for so little. We really had a good time together and… I found an excitement on being with you that I’ve never felt before,” there is a small pause in which none say anything or dare to steal a glance at the other one. Taekwoon’s voice was high like a balloon floating in the sky only to meet it's fate a few minutes later. Trapped on a spiral on it's way back to the ground, deflated. “That’s what made being together so special”

_No… he didn’t just-_

_What if?_

Wonsik can’t trust his ears. 

“Why?” and it sounds like a wounded animal. “Why are you still with him then? Taekwoon doesn’t look at him right away. 

"It-I think the comfort in knowing him the way I do, that I know what to expect and what not, it might seem boring but it’s nice to feel like there’s this special connection in between us after so long”.

It’s true and Wonsik knows it, despite their instant attraction and the trust they built, Hakyeon will always know more, he will always be Taekwoon’s first above him. 

"Where’s the excitement? you said you loved that about us, and you never mentioned something like that about him. Are you satisfied that way?” he tries. 

"Maybe. I just know I love him and that I dont hate myself for staying with him. That should be enough for you not to want me back." 

Wonsik’s heart hurts as he hears those words and he shrinks on himself, letting the couch eat him. He wants to become invisible, "what if I still want you" he barely musters. 

"I don’t think that’s enough... I am happy" Taekwoon looks at him and sighs, "It's not your fault to love someone, even if it's me. It’s just... I played with you and your emotions, and I knew I should have made it stop the second I noticed you were too deep and i’m sorry for that, really"

"No. it was bound to happen since the second I saw you, I knew I would fall for you and I also was the one who pushed our relationship forward. It wasn’t completely your fault and if anything I think I let myself fall and love too easily"

Taekwoon gives him a sad smile, “Wonsik, you will find someone who will love you for that, who can have their eyes only on you because that’s what you deserve,” his voice is tender, the words pulling strings on Wonsik’s mind and making him think _but I want you to have eyes only for me._ He knows he sounds childish but he can’t scape that thought.

And it’s like Taekwoon can read his mind, and tries his best to console him, “believe me when I say I wish things had been different, but sometimes we can only hope to live with the pain without letting it hurt us too much". 

Wonsik exhales, the feeling of defeat growing inside of him, “It's easy for you to say when you have him back... it’s easy when saying you would want things different means you would have stayed with him the first time”

And for the first time Taekwoon really does look hurt. His eyes seem downcast and Wonsik notices he’s trying hard to reprime a sob with his shiny teeth showing up and biting his lower lip. 

“You are right to tell me it is easier for me to say it” he whimpers and it kills him to hear such an angelic voice sounding so strangled, “but I want you to heal and move on because that’s what you deserve. I know that seems unlikely with me throwing all of this to you this way. I wanted to be clearer than before and to know there’s nothing between us left unsaid. I owe you that much at least”. Taekwoon raises a shaky hand when Wonsik murmurs him to stop because it’s just too painful to watch, “we happened and you mattered and still do, but it’s time you continue and if anything I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you deserved” he hoarsely finishes saying, and buries his head on his hands and his back shakes a little. 

_Why? just why did it have to go like this?_

Wonsik loves Taekwoon, he hates the way he makes him feel. He still wants to try and find the way to reconnect their paths but also to destroy anything that is left in between them and heal. He can’t change the fact that Taekwoon is still in love with Hakyeon, but it’s obvious now that remembering Wonsik hurts him too. In the end, none of them was happy or doing well. 

Taekwoon opened the door of his apartment tonight without questions and made him feel warm again so he doesn’t think it twice when he stands up and hugs him, trying to sooth him by drawing soft circles on his back. He thinks it’s a good thing that Taekwoon welcomes the gesture without showing any hesitation, and it makes Wonsik feel even better when his back stops shuddering. 

They stay in silent like that for what it seems ages but it’s only half an hour. It’s still dark outside and the reminding lights in the streets have died a little bit. Wonsik thinks they could be the only people left awake and he wouldn’t mind that honestly, not with Taekwoon next to him. 

The universe had played its cards on both of them and none had been lucky. Still so, he recalls, he is grateful that it let him have a taste of what true love and real emotions feel like.

“You did and gave me more than what you probably think,” he whispers on Taekwoon’s head before continuing, “again, you were always honest about your feelings and in the end I can’t force a relationship together if you tell me that you feel good as it is now. I want you to be happy too okay? more than anyone. You mean too much for me and if your true happiness lies next to Hakyeon then I won’t do anything to hurt you or ruin that, ever, just stay true to yourself".

Silence. 

None of them dare to move or talk, but it’s not necessary for Wonsik who can hear Taekwoon’s heavy breaths under his arms. 

“I forgive you” he swallows, even such a small action feels painful, “really tho, I don’t want you to live thinking I hate you or something like that” because nothing will come out of a discussion and he wants nothing but the best for Taekwoon too. 

It’s time Wonsik find his own way to heal, to feel good again despite knowing it’s not going to be easy or perfect again.

Taekwoon’s heavy breaths stop, and he struggles to get the words outside his mouth, “thank you Shik, really". Wonsik lets his arms fall and meets Taekwoon’s sight, his eyes glistening with unshed tears and it makes him choke back a sob. “Can you promise me something?”

“Yeah, what?”

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to, but please if you could, think about what really makes you happy, okay? it doesn’t have to involve anyone, just… what is it and how can you make yourself a truly happier person, for me at least?”

Taekwoon stares at him for a second before nodding, “I think can do that.” 

Wonsik doesn’t realize he is grabbing Taekwoon’s hand and before he knows he squeezes it, a well received comforting gesture. His hand is cold, like always, but none let each other go.

“Love shouldn’t make you feel this way, don't you think? it should make you feel good. All of this seems so...so”

“Bitter sweet?” Taekwoon tries. 

“Yeah I think so... bittersweet” Wonsik chuckles, looking away from the older’s delicate frame fearing that if he stares at him for too long again he will start crying for good. The sky behind the window seems inviting after such a bleak night. 

Everything has been said now and he can’t stand the silence that easily imposes itself between them,"I should go”.

Taekwoon unlocks his phone and shooks his head, “it's three am, don’t be stupid". He eyes Wonsik before continuing, “won’t change anything if you stay until dawn at least". 

He tries not to think about it but there’s a hint of tenderness on Taekwoon’s words and all he does is whisper a short _thank you_ in return _._

They stay in silent for only god knows how long. Wonsik finds comfort on the couch again and falls asleep at some point, waking up when the first rays of sunlight pierce through his eyes. 

He sits down, fighting back the softness of the couch and the force of invisible hands throwing him back to sleep and that’s when he feels the extra weight close to him. He looks at his left and finds Taekwoon sat asleep half a meter from where he is. His eyes lie on the older man’s beautiful frame, his head resting on the left side and his knees close to his chest. He looks so at peace right now that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days only contemplating him like that.

Since that’s pretty much out of question he considers at least running a hand through Taekwoon’s soft hair one more time but the idea dies easily, _you have to move on._

In the end, Wonsik glances at his forgotten phone lying on the small table in front of him and unlocks the screen, which reads **_six AM._ **

The sun is getting brighter outside and by the muffled car noises he gets to hear he guesses the rest of the city is beginning to awake.

Suddenly the void inside of him feels more hollow than before, maybe bigger too and his heart aches again.

 _I have to go now._ Yet he can’t. 

The moment he thinks of standing up he feels a sudden shift on the couch. He turns his head to the left but this time he finds Taekwoon waking up, hands on his eyes trying to get the sleep out of them. 

It looks and feels so domestic that it brings a new wave of memories back that Wonsik attempts to ignore and he is glad when he is interrupted seconds later by a still very much sleepy voice, “what time is it?”

“Past 6 am. I think I should go now, the sun is up already” Taekwoon only hums in return. Wonsik can’t ask his legs to stand up now. 

He doesn't want to say goodbye. A silent _we can’t see each other ever again like this_ lingers in the air, but he won’t say it. And he can’t say goodbye to Taekwoon and really mean it. The more he thinks of the word ‘goodbye’ the more it sounds like a promise, such a fragile one he knows it wouldn’t take too much for him to break it. He also wants to be better for Taekwoon, because it really seems like he wants him to heal and vice versa, but how when they are all the other wants and the beginning and end of each other’s pain? 

His rational side knows he has to stop dreaming, things were said too but...

Wonsik wants to be selfish and he wishes Taekwoon to be selfish as well. 

_Will it hurt me? us?_ he never asked himself that before confessing his feelings, this time is no different. Except, he doesn’t have a golden heart to protect him from the fall this time, something else to shatter instead of his own self. 

Again, he doesn’t care. 

He craves the touches that had made him feel on top of the world. The strong connection he felt while kissing Taekwoon.

And so he gives it a last try. One last cry of help. 

It’s real, it’s longing and it’s selfish, and with that on mind Wonsik desperately attempts to close the distance between him and Taekwoon. But the older is quicker to react, and he find warm soft fingers holding his face only centimeters away from his own, his eyes not meeting Wonsik’s sight though. 

He sighs, defeated. “Taekwoon, tell me to go and _I promise_ I will” _please don't_

“Wonsik... I”

“I know what you said before about moving on, okay? b-but you also said I made you feel special and I can’t just ignore that when you made me feel the same way. I know it sounds stupid but I probably know what it feels to be loved because of you. So please, can you let me make you feel special just one more time?”

Taekwoon looks at him, his once icy stare has completely melted now and the longing in them is almost readable. “Just this time, and I hope you make it count” he simply says and closes his eyes.

Wonsik slides a hand in Taekwoon’s hair and drags him closer before hardly pressing his lips against the older’s.

He savours every moment of the kiss like he is running out of time, _you’re not completely wrong,_ and he hopes with all his being that such a desperate action can take all of Taekwoon’s pain away in the blink of an eye _._

It does seem so when he feels the older deepening the kiss, making their forehead and noses bump against each other. Taekwoon’s hands are still holding Wonsik’s face but this time they aren’t stopping him from getting closer, quite the contrary, and they are soft, _oh so soft._

Nothing has changed since the last time they kissed. The same feelings flood inside his body and for once he can’t feel the hollowness on his chest. A burning desire replaces every thought, every feeling inside of him instead. 

Wonsik feels whole again, the sharp edges of his broken heart softened and they don’t hurt anymore. He wants time to stop and to remind right here forever, in between the arms of the person he hastily fell for and will always love. 

Until he starts feeling out of breath, and _no no_ maybe they can take a little break and cont-

And he feels a sudden pain on his lower lip that lasts for merely two seconds but enough to make him pull back. Wonsik opens his eyes and finds Taekwoon staring back, red lips parted and a bit swollen, his fringe is a mess, but his eyes… they hold too many unsaid words he doesn’t think he will ever get to hear. 

“That was..." Taekwoon starts, his soft voice like a sharp needle bursting a bubble which happens to be every mulled thought inside Wonsik. “Thank you” he only says. 

With a finger on his lip and his mind still processing what just happened Wonsik finally stands up and gives a quick final glance at the apartment. The black tiles of the kitchen, the golden rays of sunlight flooding in. The scented candles have died down like the stars in the sky before sunrise. 

Taekwoon, sitting on the sofa with his legs close to his chest and his chin resting on top of them reminds silent but Wonsik doesn’t need words, the older’s tired expression says everything. _It did help, but why does he still look sad?_

A moment pass in silence before he turns around and looks straight into Wonsik “please... take care of yourself”.

Taekwoon doesn’t cry. Wonsik knows he’s been fighting tears from staining his cheeks for the entire night. It’s okay though, he will do both work.

“Will I see you again?” he doesn't even know why he asks it, but if this is going be the last time he needs to know. 

He looks back at Taekwoon, his eyes are a bit red but dry, if anything it's the sleep. He mutters something almost inaudible, _but enough to know_ and lowers his head to the ground.

Wonsik’s lip hurts. It hurts like his heart does. He collects himself as best as he can and leaves before his heart does something his mind would not approve. _You’ve got your answer now._

On his way down he doesn’t allow himself to think or feel anything, this _is for the best,_ he repeats himself as he walks out of the building and is welcome by the rush of an awakened city. 

The sun lazily peaks through the skyscrapers and other tall buildings. It’s a cold morning, they always are in October anyways. Wonsik likes them, they help him think clearer and that way he doesn’t feel sticky while walking down the streets.

Not feeling like heading back to his apartment and into the loneliness that implies he enters the first coffee shop he finds, asks for something strong and bitter and once that’s done he sits on a table next to a big set of windows that gives him a view of the park on the other side of the street, quite empty at this hour, only the morning joggers and birds congregated there. 

He can almost picture a crowd of people being eclipsed by a dark silhouette of a man and his piano.

He can almost hear that haunting voice, hypnotic like a siren’s. 

He zones out for a moment before he hears another voice, this time it’s velvety and seductive, and _those words,_ seem awfully familiar. 

**_I thought you’d believe me_ **

**_I thought you’d be a little different_ **

**_My delusion was too deep_ **

**_I already knew but this bitter taste remains_ **

It mocks Wonsik, and he lets it. _You’ve got your answer,_ he repeats himself while playing with the two, now empty, packets of sugar lying on the table. 

He gives his coffee another sip, thanking that he had asked it to go before standing up and exiting the shop.

_Maybe I should have stayed a bit longer_

_Maybe Ishould have never gone there_

_Maybe, maybe_

Wonsik crosses the street, doesn’t know where his legs will head him but it’s fine really, maybe everything will be. He doesn’t listen to his heart this time, now sober he won’t walk barefoot down a path filled with pieces of it and cause unnecessary bleeding, he will need time to mend his heart, though. He doesn’t know how long that will take, how long does a person need to wait to get an answer back from someone else?

Most things are uncertain right now but he has no hurry.

Maybe he will get another answer or maybe he will have to live with what he has right now. Whether that lies eight floors above the ground inside a dim room, drinking strong coffee on a soft couch or not Wonsik will wait, love can be bittersweet but he can always count on adding two spoons of sugar to it. 


End file.
